


it's all quiet now

by trickyghoul



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Implied mental illness, M/M, MAG 186 spoiler-ish, Post Apocalypse, implied trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:42:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27577376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trickyghoul/pseuds/trickyghoul
Summary: “ Pip i’m ho-HOH my fuck. You are not my cat. “ he yelps and nearly jumps out of his skin when he flicks on the lights only to see his doppleganger sitting on the sofa, petting his black cat as if it owned the place.Well. He sort of did. But that’s beside the matter.
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims/Martin Blackwood, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 5
Kudos: 49





	it's all quiet now

**Author's Note:**

> just something short and quick

Winters were always hard for Martin, he covered up that fact by claiming that he loved the lights. The pretty little holiday decorations he littered around his home, how lively the city felt, catching up with dear friends, warmth from the fireplaces, comfort food, and if he felt like being silly he’d claim that he really ‘wanted those limited time tea’s’ that he ‘could give a try for the season.’ It was not lying per say- they were all truthful claims, small things kept close to his heart. 

But of course, seasonal depression held back for nobody. Rainy days have always been a comfort of sorts. But they were still dreary and dark for several days in a row. During the cold months Rain usually always turns to an icy slush that would turn into a disgusting shade from the road's filth. The sunlight hours were missed and few. Not really great for the mental health department. On those rare days the sun was shining he would be indoors working away anyways to make rent. ‘A Hero Of The Apocalypse” be damned. 

Truth be told it was hard, far too dark, and too quiet. 

Martin shivers against the chill wind as he fumbles with his keys to get inside his flat. A sigh of relief escapes his lips when he manages to slip through the door into the warmth of the building.

“ Pip i’m ho-HOH my fuck. You are not my cat. “ he yelps and nearly jumps out of his skin when he flicks on the lights only to see his doppleganger sitting on the sofa, petting his black cat as if it owned the place. 

Well. He _sort of did._ But that’s beside the matter.

“ Oh, it’s you again, _perfect._ “ he scowls and turns away with a grimace to remove his coat. “ Why have you come to bother me now- shouldn’t you have disappeared or something? “ 

The reflection of himself raises an eyebrow and crosses its arms across its chest, “ We already know why I'm here. Apocalypse ended or not. Some things will always linger. “ 

“ Well. I don’t need you. So re-meld with my consciousness or disappear or something. “ he snorts, walking around the figure to get to his kitchen.

Pip stretches out on the couch before jumping off, trotting in after him in hopes that he might get her some food. He obliges, opening a can of cat food and scooping it into her bowl. He then cracks each of his fingers between his thumbs absentmindedly before reaching for the kettle. A hot drink would be good for his cold hands.

The Other Martin follows, much to his disappointment. He reaches for his favorite mug, it has a painting of a moth across the side of it and sets it gently on the counter. “ We both know that’s not true right now. Hard days happen, we don’t want to be alone. We want to talk about it. “

“ I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t need to talk about anything. “ he swears he can feel a cavern of dread open up in his heart. 

“ You can’t lie to yourself. “ 

Martin rolls his eyes, and frustration follows on the tip of his tongue. “ I don’t need to talk about it! I am perfectly fine, I mean- i’m doing all the right things. I see a therapist weekly, I eat healthily, I take my medication, and I get my daily exercise. I see my friends, I talk to people! I get my eight hours of sleep everyday. I do all the right things, and hell i’ve started photography as a new hobby of all things. “ he pauses, giving his double a long glare. His throat burns as old emotions start to bubble up and he pulls his gaze away to his cupboard. He takes a moment to exhale through his nose. “ Look. I don’t… I don’t need to talk about it. I’ll get past it. “

“ You miss him. “ it says softly. The two unused rings Martin looped into his necklace felt like cold and heavy reminders of what happened against the warmth of his chest. They were picked up on their travels when the world was at its worst. Never properly used for what he was planning- he didn’t get the chance to use them anyway. “ You loved him. It’s okay to grieve you know, that’s normal. “

“ Stop. “ he replies hoarsely, picking an earl grey tea bag out of one of the boxes on the shelf and dropping it into his empty cup. “ I know that already, just stop it. Please.“

The reflection doesn’t stop. “ We avoid thinking about it, avoid talking about it to our friends because we’re so used to being the comforter not the comforted. Too guilty to take up their time. Guilty because you feel like you’re doing not only him a disservice, but a disservice to yourself, to stop living your life when he couldn’t make it back with you. We’re so wrapped up in the feelings of others, here and gone that you keep it inside of us. We can’t just ignore the pain forever. “

“ Why not! What do you even want me to say? There’s nothing that can be done. I can’t magically go back and time and fix it. To do something different. I can’t help him or anyone or undo the damage. I can’t save the love of my life. “ Martin snaps back, tears welling in his eyes and he huffs irritatedly. _Great. Lovely. Awesome._ Well, it’s good to know he still has tears to shed. The first night the world returned to normal, he was inconsolable for a few days. He wipes some of them away from his face and shakes his head. 

The kettle whistles and cuts the brief silence between them. The reflection steps in to shut off the heat, and pours the hot water into the mug. Martin doesn’t pick it up, not yet. He leans against the fridge and stares at it. 

“ We can’t change the past.” it agrees slowly. “ But we have to acknowledge and accept what happened. Then we move forward, just like we always have. Hour by hour, day by day, week by week. We are allowed to feel loss, to reach out to people that care about us, and it is important to do while we are doing ‘all the right things’. “ It picks up the mug and offers it to its counterpart. 

He reaches out and accepts the drink, the heat radiating off of it offering some comfort. Then sinking down to sit on the cool kitchen tile floor. Pip uses that as an invitation and curls up on his lap after she’s finished with her food. “ Okay. “ is all he can think to say, strength sapping out of him. “ I just… I wish the whole thing could have ended differently. I wish I could have seen him one last time. I don’t know. I’m sorry. “ 

" I know. " His double drops down next to him and wraps an arm around his shoulder squeezing lightly. It's an odd feeling, the pressure being there but no warmth that a regular human being would have. “ Just be kind to yourself, feel what you need to, and keep going. “


End file.
